Olympic Fever
by pinkswallowsun
Summary: Harry, Nikki & co have tickets for the 2020 Cape Town Olympic Games- assuming they ever make it there, of course. Another attempt at humour, and birthday present for Charlotte xxx
1. Chapter 1

**This one's for the wonderful Charlotte, because it's her birthday today :) hope you have a fantastic day and all your birthday wishes come true.**

**I do have a confession to make: I got far more into this than I was expecting to and so it's going to be a long one! I say going to because this is only half of it; I haven't quite finished the ending and although I'm 90% sure I will have by the end of today I'm a little bit worried I might not do. I don't want to rush it and not do as good a job as I could do, and there was a nice logical place in the middle to split it, so it's become a 2 parter :) Charlotte: this part is going up on the morning of your birthday (obviously, as you're reading it :P) and the ending will be following it later today- that way just in case I don't quite get it finished you still get a birthday fic on the day, and the final part will be up tomorrow morning at the very latest, I promise. Sorry that was so long, hope you enjoy it! **

**All the usual disclaimers apply as well as an extra one for this fic: please do feel free to bet on the 2020 Olympics according to the results in this, but I by no means claim to be a fortune teller and I accept no responsibiliy whatsoever if and when you end up bankrupt :P**

**Hope you enjoy, and once again Happy Birthday Charlotte!**

**Love Flossie xxx**

* * *

**Harry's Diary**

**Friday 6****th**** August 2020**

**Cape Town 2020 Olympics: Day 7**

**Cape Town International Airport, luggage collection**

**-4.23am**

"He's going to kill us."

"Yep."

"We're screwed."

"Yep."

"Completely and utterly done for. We should probably just turn around now and go home to avoid the near-fatal explosion."

"Yep."

"Are you incapable of saying anything but 'yep' before 7 in the morning after an 11 hour plan journey?"

"Yep."

"Good to know. So place your bets: how long do you reckon the time gap will be between our first and last suitcase coming around the conveyer belt?"

"God knows. After the journey we've just had, 2 hours?"

"Possible. I was thinking more like 3."

"6 then, times them together? I told you we shouldn't have booked tickets due to land in Cape Town the night before, but oh no, you said, what could possibly go wrong…!"

"Well how was I supposed to know that there would be major staffing shortages at Heathrow, so much so that they had to rope in the Gatwick staff to help? Or that the bloody Gatwick air hostesses wouldn't want to leave the comforts of their own staff room so we'd all have to wait around for 3 hours for a couch to ship us over there? Or that we'd get stuck in a major traffic jam on the way? We've flown out here hundreds of times before and not once have we had this problem, how was I to know this time would be any different?"

"Well maybe given that this time you knew we were flying over to watch Olympic rowing that we paid a bloody fortune to get tickets for it might have been intelligent to book flights to arrive here slightly earlier than 8pm the night before, just in case this was the one time the flight got delayed…!"

"But we're here now, aren't we? Safely arrived in Cape Town with a whole 3 hours to spare!"

"You're right, I'm sorry. It's not your fault, you couldn't have known, and we're here now, I'm being ridiculous…"

Aww. Looks tired and stressed and apologetic and guilty at the thought might have upset me, is really rather adorable.

"Oh Nikki, come here sweetheart. It's OK, no offence taken, it's ridiculous AM and we've had hardly any sleep on top of a stressful evening, I think you're allowed to be a bit…"

"Pig-headed and down-right rude and argumentative?"

"Well I was going to suggest stressed, but OK, we can work with that. Oh god Nikki, he really is going to kill us, isn't he?"

"Daddy? Who's going to kill you?" Aww poor Josi, looks positively panic-stricken. That child always seems to arrive at the most awkward of moments.

"Oh, nobody darling, not really. Mummy and me are just a little bit worried about Uncle Pieter's reaction when we ring him unexpectedly at four thirty in the morning to tell him we'd like a lift and a sofa for the night. What's left of it, anyway. We're just exaggerating Josi, he won't really kill us. Well, I don't think so anyway."

Is frowning now, she looks rather cute when she's confused. "But… but I thought we were going to get a taxi back to Ouma's?"

"Well we were, Josi, but that was before our flight got delayed by 8 hours, wasn't it? It's far too late to get a taxi now and your grandma can't drive, so we're going to have to phone Uncle Pieter and beg him for a lift back to his place."

Judging by the look on daughter's face, think the problem has finally hit her.

"And you're worried he's going to kill us because when we came at Christmas he knew he was going to have to pick us up from the airport at 5.30 in the morning and he was grumpy enough then. And Auntie Sara said to excuse him because he needs his beauty sleep and can't cope with early mornings."

"Yep, that's right." Not entirely sure how am going to pluck up the courage to call Pieter Lamprecht and beg for a lift. Actually, now I think about it, not sure how exactly phoning Pieter became my job in the first place. Should be Nikki's job, she's known him for longer. Or Josi's, she's cute and innocent, Pieter's less likely to snap at her.

"Why don't you just phone Auntie Sara for a lift, Daddy? When we came here at Christmas you got me to phone her to tell her even though we'd gotten her out of bed at 5 in the morning we weren't actually going to arrive until 7,30 and she didn't mind, she was very nice about it. She would give us a lift."

Ah, the elephant in the room. Nikki and I both know that Sara has been suspended due to driving deemed horrendously dodgy even by South African road standards and a battered old red beetle-lookalike guilty of failing its MOT no less than three times in a row, pulled over on the way around Table Mountain into the centre of Cape Town by a police patrol car which just so happened to contain her husband Pieter and his boss. Sara knows that Nikki and I both know that she has been suspended due to driving horrendously dodgy even by South African road standards and a battered old red beetle-lookalike guilty of failing its MOT no less than three times in a row, pulled over on the way around Table Mountain into the centre of Cape Town by a police patrol car which just so happened to contain her husband Pieter and his boss. But no one mentions it.

"I'm sure she would Josi, but she can't drive, can she? Otherwise we'd ask her, I think she's marginally better at early mornings than Pieter is. But please don't tell either of them I said that will you?"

"Of course I won't. I know, Mummy! Why don't we ring Callum and ask him for a lift! He can drive by himself now, remember?"

Oh god. If all have heard about Sara and Pieter's youngest son Callum's driving bearing a stark resemblance to his mother's even now has passed his test is true, then is absolutely no way am getting into car driven by him. No way in hell.

And judging by look of pure panic on Nikki's face, the feeling is mutual.

"Oh no, we won't do that Josi, Callum's still at uni at the moment, isn't he? It's not the holidays for him. He's probably had a long week, we don't want to get him up at half past four in the morning, do we? I'll toughen up and phone Uncle Pieter in a minute, don't worry. Look, why don't you and Mummy go and try and find our suitcases?"

"Oh, OK then. Can I push the trolley please?"

Oh god. Josi and the shopping trolleys at Waitrose are a complete disaster zone, hate to even contemplate the destruction she could cause with a huge great suitcase trolley. Am staying firmly out of this one.

**-4.34am**

Uh oh, phone connecting. No going back now.

"What time do you bloody call this?"

Ah. Not in a brilliant mood then.

"Hi Pieter, it's Harry. Sorry for calling so early, it's just we're in a bit of a situation, our flight was hideously delayed and we've only just landed in Cape Town, and as it's a bit late now for us to get a taxi, we were… umm… wondering if you wouldn't mind… coming to pick us up in about half an hour?"

No response. Ah. Well this trip is going well.

"Well I'm bloody awake now! Fine, fine, I'll be there in half an hour, just don't expect me to be presentable. Which terminal?"

"Terminal 2. Thank you Pieter, you're a lifesaver. We seriously owe you for this."

"Ja, you do. Right then, I'll see you in half an hour, terminal 2, pick up zone. Be ready to go as soon as I turn up, no faffing. I want to get back to bloody bed ASAP."

**-4.38am**

"Hello, my beautiful." Ah, beautiful wife does the sweetest kisses when she hasn't quite woken up, looks all bleary-eyed and gorgeous. "Right, it's all sorted, Pieter's going to come and pick us up in about half an hour. But we're to be ready to shove our bags in the back and go as soon as he turns up, because he wants to get going ASAP so he can get back to bed apparently."

"Fair enough. God, I'm still not awake. It's a good job Josi noticed my suitcase coming round the conveyer belt, I would have let it go round at least another 6 times before I finally noticed it otherwise."

"Given that it's covered in ugly butterfly stickers, that's rather worrying."

"Oi you! There's nothing ugly about my butterfly stickers! They help me identify my suitcase amongst the sea of boring identical black ones!"

"Well they clearly don't, Mummy, because you didn't even notice it when it came round the conveyer belt!"

"I rest my case." Ah, Josi's giggling, good to know someone appreciates really rather brilliant jokes, not to mention ability to make them at not even 5 in the morning. Although judging by look on Nikki's face, husband's cracker of a pun has gone completely over her head. Blimey, she must be tired.

"Ohhh look, there's a Starbucks over there, shall I go and get us coffees while we're waiting for our suitcases to come round."

Love how no matter how tired she is, Nikki's ears never fail to prick up at the mere mention of coffee.

"Yes please, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course not. Your favourite? I think you've earned it after yesterday evening."

"That's what you said about all those Belgian chocolates we ate on the plane."

"True. Oh come on, let me get you your favourite anyway, we've got a long day ahead of us. Josi, would you like a hot chocolate?"

"Hot chocolate?!" Looks rather appalled. "Daddy, it's far too early in the morning for chocolate! Can I have a guava juice please? Or alternatively orange, because they probably won't have that."

Will never, ever understand that child.

**-5.01am**

Phew, sitting down at last, huge Starbucks queue, suitcase collection and customs all successfully negotiated. Admittedly Cunningham family are sat on bench outside Terminal 2 of Cape Town International Airport in the cold as opposed to Pieter Lamprecht's four by four on the way towards one of Sara's delicious full English breakfasts, but can't have everything you want in life. Besides, have my two favourite girls with me. And a Starbucks white chocolate mocha. Will be perfectly content sat here waiting for Pieter to turn up with arm around Nikki's shoulders and Joycelin sat on lap as long as Grande coffee cup remains at least part full.

"So we're going to see the Olympic rowing?"

"Yep, that's right, Josi."

"With Ouma and Auntie Sara and Uncle Pieter and Zaretta and Ethan and Callum?"

"Yep. It's going to be brilliant, isn't it Josi? Just think, the Olympics will almost certainly never come to Cape Town again, this could well be the first and last time you get to go and watch it in the flesh. You'll remember this for the rest of your life, I promise. Are you excited?"

"Of course I am, really excited! There are going to be finals for medals today, aren't there?"

"That's right, so we'll have to cheer really loudly for the British boats to encourage them and help them win, won't we? We don't want another crushing defeat at the bottom of the medal table like we had at Rio in 2016, do we? I just knew we couldn't top our home turf performance in 2012."

"What? Oh no, Daddy, I'm cheering for South Africa."

Huh?! Does not compute. Not entirely sure, but think daughter and only fellow supporter of courageous team GB has been snatched up by the evil majority of team SA supporters, i.e, Martha, Sara, Pieter and their now grown up children Zaretta, Ethan and Callum. Admittedly Nikki is remaining neutral and sitting in between devoted SA fans and GB fans to act as human Hadrian's wall when opposing sides charge at each other during finals involving a South African boat racing a British boat, but is hardly the point. Have been abandoned by own daughter. Shocking.

"What?! But Josi… but you're British! You live in Britain!"

"But I was born in South Africa!"

Oh god, here we go. Should have known evil SA fans would seize on vulnerable only-just-nine-year-old daughter and convert her to the dark side in Britain's hour of need. Typical.

"Yes, but that was an accident Josi, that was a minor oversight on Mummy's part! Face it, you're a Londoner!"

"But it's the Cape Town Olympics! Uncle Pieter says as it's the Cape Town Olympics and I have Cape Townian blood in me I should support Cape Town!"

Ah, Pieter. Knew he would be the evil mastermind behind this, just knew.

"Nikki, help me!"

"Ah, no, I'm not getting involved, you're on your own Harry."

Am 99.9% certain she's smirking ever-so-slightly. She's enjoying this.

"But Josi… team GB are just better! We win more, we're untouchable, well, at all the sitting down sports, anyway. You want to support the winners, don't you?"

"Are you sure Great Britain are definitely going to be the winners, Daddy?"

"Of course I am, Josi, almost positive, we're brilliant at rowing! I'm sure."

"But Daddy, you support West Ham."

"And?" Nikki now in hysterics, not quite sure what she's finding so funny. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Well Daddy, every single year when the Football League thing starts you tell me that this will be the year West Ham finally live up to their true potential and dominate the field and win the cup. And every single year you make me sit through… you make me sit through at least 25 matches of hairy men running around a pitch, and West Ham lose almost all of them really badly. Where… wherebut..."

"Do you mean whereas?"

"Yes, whereas, thank you Mummy. Whereas Uncle Pieter supports Ajax, and when he took us to see them play they looked really good, and they won 5 nil, and they always either win the South African soccer league or they lose by a couple of points, which isn't very much at all really, not when you think about how much West Ham normally lose by. So boaring all that in mind…"

"You mean bearing?"

"Yes, sorry, bearing. So bearing all that in mind, I've decided the most sensible thing to do is to trust Uncle Pieter's judgement over yours and support South Africa in the rowing later."

Wow, she's good. Nikki now laughing so hard think might be crying, quite an achievement by Joycelin given she was half asleep even with caffeine in her system just five minutes ago. That child should be a lawyer when she grows up. Or a comedian.

"So… you're basing your decision as to which country to support in the Olympic rowing on the fact that Uncle Pieter's football team of choice just so happens to do better than mine does on the league tables."

"Well…yes."

"Right."

"And Auntie Sara said if I swore my loyalty to South Africa she'd buy me one of those fluffy Rhino team SA mascot things."

"Ah. Suddenly it all makes sense."

"What does?"

"Nothing, darling." Blimey nine year olds are fickle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2. I'm so sorry this is later than I originally said, to all of you but especially to Charlotte, because it's now the day after your birthday :( I'm sorry, the reason I'm so behind is because a family friend has been taken to hospital, so it's a bit all over the place in my house. I don't think it's affected the quality of this ( I hope not, I'm sorry if it has) but it has meant that it's taken me much longer to get this finished. So once again, I'm really sorry, and I hope it was worth the wait. And even though it's now a day late: happy birthday Charlotte, I hope you had a fantastic day yesterday and this final part is for you.**

**Love Flossie xxx**

* * *

**-6.17am**

Have rediscovered heaven on earth. Is Sara and Pieter's kitchen at breakfast time along with plate of egg, bacon, sausage, grilled tomatoes, mushrooms and toast. Perfect. Will never work out what Sara does to full English breakfast to make it taste so amazing, let alone manage to reproduce it by self. Oh well. Will just have to keep coming back to visit on regular basis, if only for the food.

"Auntie Sara?"

"Hmm?" Can tell Sara is still half asleep, eyes not quite fully open yet. And she thinks this is early. She should try being up and about with a wide-awake 9 year old in an airport at 4.30 AM.

"How do rowers know where they're going? Because they face backwards in their boats, we've been watching it on the TV at home. So if they go backwards then they can only see the bit of the course they've already done. How do they know where they're going?"

"Have you seen the sun visors they wear while they're rowing?"

"Yes…?"

"They have mirrors on the sides of them, under the visor part, they use them to see behind them."

"Oh… so… like wing mirrors in a car?"

"Yep, that's right, isn't it Harry?"

Hehe, love teasing her, can be so gullible sometimes. Although, that said, find it worryingly difficult to catch her out half the time. Am slower than a gullible 9 year old. Brilliant.

"They do, they have mirrors underneath their visors, Josi, Auntie Sara's right."

"But… but wouldn't they be above their eye level and not very easy to look into? Are you too sure you've got this right?"

"Positive, Josi, positive. I guess they must be a little bit difficult to look into, yes, but the mirrors need to be right underneath so that they don't get water splashed on them, then they'd be really difficult to look into."

Hehe, daughter has strange look on her face now, can't work out if she believes us or not. Love teasing her, is like teasing Nikki, except as Josi is much younger and therefore not quite so in-tune with Daddy's sense of humour. She really does make me laugh sometimes, bless her.

"Are you sure you're sure? Because some of them don't wear visors, so how so those rowers see where they're going? And some of them wear sunglasses, I don't think it would be very easy to look at a hidden mirror under your hat while wearing sunglasses at the same time, do you?"

Damn, she's got us.

"Fine Josi, fine, there aren't really mirrors under the rower's visors; it's a straight course so they just use the lines of buoys to make sure they're in a straight line."

"You believed us for a minute though, Josi, admit it!"

"No, I knew you were trying to trick me! So… so they don't turn around at all while they're rowing, they just look straight ahead the entire time and only ever see the bit of the course they've already rowed along, never the bit they're going over next?"

"Yep, that's right, couldn't have put it better myself."

"But the races are being held on a lake, right Auntie Sara? It says on the tickets we're going to a great big lake in the Olympic Park, only I can't remember its name."

"Yep, that's right, a great big lake. Why?"

"Well, ducks live on lakes, don't they? It's their natural habatet."

"Do you mean habitat?"

"I think so. So if the rowing races are happening on a great big lake, what happens if a group of ducklings swim out in front of the boat and paddle about right by where the big oar things with the funny name…"

"The blades?"

"Yes, the blades. What happens if cute fluffy ducklings swim out in front of the blades and the boat's going really fast? The rowers wouldn't know they were there because they'd be facing forwards, they wouldn't see the ducklings! Surely that isn't very safe for the ducks!"

"What? No Josi, no, not that sort of lake, sweetheart. It's a special purpose-built lake for rowing in, no ducks live there cute and fluffy or otherwise, I promise."

"Oh, OK. But not everyone rows on a special purpose-built lake, do they? Remember when your friend Niall took up rowing at university and we went to watch him race on the Thames? The Thames isn't a special purpose-built lake, it's a river, and there are lots of ducks on there! Do those ducks get flattened to death?"

Ah. How on earth did we get onto this topic of conversation? Josi and cute fluffy animals getting flattened as a combination rarely ever works out.

"Well… well the rowers on the river probably turn to look over their shoulders a lot more, don't they, so they know where all the bends in the river are. So I suppose they'd probably notice any stay ducklings out in front of them then and steer away from them."

"Oh, OK then. So there won't be any close calls between ducklings and rowing boats today?"

"Absolutely not, I promise. Have you finished your breakfast? Uncle Pieter will want to get going soon, and we've got to go and pick your grandma up on the way, haven't we? We don't want to be late."

"But Daddy, it's only half past six! We've got loads of time yet!"

"Not that long really, we've got to be there in an hour. It's a bit like going through airport security, Josi, we're going to have to stand around in a queue for quite a while before we actually manage to get in and find our seats."

"Oh, OK. So we're leaving soon? But… but Uncle Pieter's gone back to bed! How are we going to get there, then?"

Thank god, for a horrible moment thought she was going to end that sentence with: 'because you're not allowed to drive.' Didn't think 9 year olds had much of an understanding of the concept of 'the elephant in the room' as previously discussed, thankfully seem to have underestimated Joycelin's intelligence. That wouldn't have ended well.

"I know Josi, don't you worry about that. I'm going to go and tip a bucket of cold water over his head if he's not up in 10 minutes, that'll get him out of bed."

Never quite know whether Sara's joking when she comes out with this kind of thing. Especially when the target is her husband.

**-6.47am**

Ohhh almost ready to leave, exciting! Packed lunch sorted and have checked and triple checked have tickets in bag, definitely ready. Now just need to corner beautiful wife before we leave, want morning kiss. Another one. And might just have a tiny, tiny favour to ask of her. Just a little one.

Ah, there she is.

"Nikki, darling?" Will put arms around her waist so she can't escape before have talked her round, perfect plan. And of course means that get to cuddle her, won't be complaining about that.

"Want do you want, Harry Cunningham?"

Damn, she's seen right through me.

"Me? Nothing! Do I need a reason to hug my beautiful wife?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere Harry Cunningham, I know you want something, I can tell by the look on your face!"

"Fine, fine. You know those union jacks I brought with us for Josi to wave? The huge ones?"

"Yep…" Ah, she knows exactly where this is going already, can tell from her tone, is overly suspicious.

"Well, I was thinking, as Josi's decided to dessert me in camp GB and cross over to the dark side, I don't suppose I could interest you in one of the flags, could I?"

"I just knew you were going to ask me that."

"Show off. We can't all be as highly intelligent as you, you know!"

"Are you trying to flatter me again?"

"Maybe! So will you wave one of them?"

"Nope."

Grrr, thought I had her then.

"Nikki, pleeeeeeeeease? Otherwise there's going to be one lonely Union Jack amongst a sea of South African flags! You saw how close that semi-final was between the British and the South Africans in the men's doubles, team GB needs all the support they can get!"

"Nope, still not doing it! I told you Harry, I'm remaining neutral! That way I can sit in between you and the others and prevent World War Three breaking out when one country inevitably picks up significantly more medals than the other!"

"You're adorable when your voice goes all posh like that, you know that?"

"Not going to work!"

"And anyway, how exactly are you going to protect me from angry SA fans when team GB wipe the floor with them? You've got the upper body strength of a kitten!"

"Oi you! Well now I'm definitely not waving a Union Jack for you!"

"But Nikkkkkkkiiiiiiiiiiii! How about I offer you a reward, this evening? Martha can entertain Josi in the garden or something and we'll barricade the bedroom door shut?"

"Ohhh." She's tempted now, can tell, has rather beautiful, seductive look on face and grip on shoulders has intensified. "I'll think about it. Come on you, or we're going to be late, the traffic's going to be hell."

**-7.09am**

Ah. Not quite the start to a day at the Olympics I had imagined. Stuck in huge traffic jam in the Olympic lane just outside the giant Starbucks in Cape Town centre in back of police four by four with Pieter clad from head to toe in South African rugby kit ( in the words of Sara: sooooo embarrassing ), Martha, Sara and Nikki. Volunteered Joycelin to go with Zaretta, Ethan and Callum and endure Callum's awful driving, don't think she's best impressed. Think she may well have severe case of whiplash by the time see her again in car park.

"I told you we should have left earlier! If only you'd been bothered to drag your lazy arse out of bed ten minutes earlier then we wouldn't have this problem!"

Ah, just as well sent Josi with the kids really, Sara and Pieter are at each other's throats already. Not even seven thirty yet, is probably new record of theirs. And I thought Nikki and I were bad this morning after god-awful plane nightmare trying to get to Cape Town.

"Hey, it's not my fault, don't try and blame me for this! Have you seen the size of that tailback? Being ten minutes earlier would hardly have made any difference whatsoever! It's the Olympic rowing, for god's sake, not Puddletown regatta!"

Have to confess, find it incredibly difficult to keep a straight face when they go for each other like this.

**-7.17am**

Well this is fun. Almost ten whole minutes later and have moved about five metres along road in total. Sara and Pieter switched to Afrikaans to shout abuse at each other in just after became level with butchers rather than giant Starbucks. Sadly can't understand what wonderfully insulting names they're referring to each other by any longer, though is quite fun trying to guess. According to Nikki, 'poepol' in Afrikaans means 'arsehole.' Given the number of times have heard Sara use this affectionately over the years, this revelation is worrying.

**-7.23am**

"Well if you're so bloody convinced that we're never going to get anywhere in this lane then why don't you just turn the bloody car around and go a different way?!"

"Are you blind, woman? We're stuck in a bloody traffic sandwich, how am I meant to turn around, hey?"

"Well, I don't know, go up on the pavement? At risk of stating the bloody obvious, of course!"

"Just because you haven't got an issue breaking the rules of the road doesn't mean no one has! An ostrich could hold a straighter line than you! A blindfolded ostrich in its sleep!"

Oh gosh, they're off again. Not only that, are onto the topic of the elephant in the room; Sara's driving ban issued by none other than Pieter and his boss. Classic. God, they're entertaining.

Feel little bit awkward, must admit, will attempt to strike up separate conversation on completely unrelated topic and hope they come to a compromise sometime soon. If didn't know Sara and Pieter as well as do, might be more than a little worried about state of their marriage. As it is, happen to know they love each other really, wouldn't even look at anyone else. Just love attacking each other for the sake of it as well.

"So, Martha, Nikki, did you see the semi-finals of the women's coxless quads? I think it's their final today, isn't it? That sprint to the finish line in the second semi-final was just incredible…"

Oh god, can't even hear Martha's reply over the swearing. And Leo thinks Nikki and I are bad when we go for each other.

"Pieter?"

"What?" Uh oh, this is going to go well. Judging by Sara's tone think she's trying to be at least vaguely helpful, though judging by Pieter's don't think he's willing to listen.

"It's getting late now, we might not make it there the ridiculously two hours early they insist on the bloody website."

"So? What do you want me to do about it?"

"Turn the sirens on?"

Ohhh she's good. Hadn't even thought of that one myself, although now she's mentioned it seems like rather fantastic idea.

"What?"

"Well, this is a police car; we might as well use that to our advantage. Just turn the sirens on to get us out of this bloody tailback and then pull over, pretend to be on the phone at switch them off again, no one ever need know."

Somehow, am getting the feeling that's Sara's given this plan a lot of thought in the past, even if hasn't actually persuaded Pieter to use it yet. Or even that has been put into action by the pair of them before and was not an experience Pieter was planning on repeating. Either way, Sara is a genius. Police sirens are a sure way of getting out of the traffic jam from hell, genuine emergency or not.

**-7.26am**

Ah, Sara won the battle of wills. Now racing through Cape Town in the fast lane (quite literally) with sirens blaring, eerie blue light casting down on windows and watching as traffic pulls over to the sides to let us through. Brilliant! There's something rather exciting about it, like some kind of childhood fantasy finally come true aged 46. Always wanted to tear through traffic and have everyone move out of my way.

"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Ah, being given strange look by Nikki, perhaps am getting a little too into the whole police siren ticket to freedom thing. Clearly, she never dreamt about this while stuck in huge monsters of traffic jams as a child. I.e. has no life.

**-7.32am**

"Mummy! Daddy!"

"Hello, you. Did you think we weren't coming?" Aww love it when she's pleased to see me, gives me strange, warm, fuzzy feeling can't even explain. Also love that she hasn't reached the stage at which doesn't like being hugged and picked up in public anymore. Am secretly hoping she never gets to that stage, would miss this. Although according to Leo, this stage kicks in at around 12. Hope not.

"No, you had to come, because you've got my ticket. I was getting a little bit worried though."

"Were you? Aww, I'm sorry Josi, we got stuck in a horrendous traffic jam."

"We guessed. I thought perhaps you wouldn't make it in time and we'd all have to stand at the bottom of the lake and try and catch a glimpse of the racing from there because we wouldn't be allowed into our seats without our tickets."

"Would we do that to you?"

"I don't know, would you?"

"Of course we wouldn't. Not deliberately, anyway. Come on, shall we go and find our seats?"

**-9.05am**

Finally sat in seats ready for action to start, after battling with airport security-like metal detectors over presence of 9 teaspoons (picnic lunch essentials) in Nikki's bag, mile long queues for foul-smelling toilets and shocking half hour wait for coffee. Not fun. On the plus side, have front row seats and perfect few of finish line, i.e. golden photo opportunity for Kodak-happy Nikki. So hopefully she'll be content with taking pictures of the rowing rather than me in number of god-awful poses to be taped to the Lyell centre fridge door for all eternity. Hope so.

Ohhh.

"Josi! Josi, look, it's the British men's eight, just there!" Think athletes must all be out warming up, will take this opportunity for one final attempt to bring daughter back over to the good side.

"Look, don't they look impressive! South Africa hasn't got a men's eight, you know. Or a women's eight."

"But the South African quads are much stronger and more likely to get medals Josi, don't worry about that."

"Zaretta! I thought you were supposed to be my friend!" Sara's daughter told me this morning was not getting involved in desperate attempts to bring out the GB supporters in Nikki and Josi, but would not try to keep Josi on the side of team SA either; would quietly support own country. Has betrayed me.

"I'm not trying to influence her, I'm just stating the facts! Josi, I've got a spare flag, would you like to have it?"

"Ohh, yes please! Thank you Zaretta!"

Might as well face it, really. Joycelin has been lost to the dark side.

**-9.32am**

Ohhh, think it's starting. According to programme first few races have no South African _or_ British boats in them, so can sit back and relax without having to worry about ridiculous over-competitiveness which will certainly almost certainly be displayed by South African supporters sat to my left on other side of Nikki; Sara, Pieter (was putting those two next to each other after the drive over really an intelligent idea?) Ethan, Callum, Zaretta, Martha and Josi. AKA, the enemy.

Of course, won't be displaying any over-competitiveness myself. Not in the slightest. Will watch races unfold in a calm, controlled manner, applaud the winners and commiserate the losers. I'm nice like that.

**-9.43am**

"COME ON GB!" On to the women's pairs semi-final now, no evil South African boat as opposition but still. Which means Nikki will also cheer for them- is apparently happy to cheer for Britain as long as are not racing South Africa. In short, is scared to commit herself to team GB and face wrath of angry SA supporters to her left. Knowing how competitive Sara can get, can't say I blame her.

Ohhh this is painful to watch, Chinese boat closing in on the British fast? Why is it the Chinese are ridiculously good at every single sport in the Olympics? And the Americans. Top the medal table by miles every single year without fail, is not fair. In fact, perhaps they need their own separate elite Olympics; clearly they're far too good to compete with the rest of us mere mortals. Would certainly level the playing field a little.

**-9.44am**

Oh god, neck and neck, can hardly bear to look. Why oh why do they have to be neck and neck for 3rd place and therefore last available place in final, not for 1st and 2nd? If mad scrabble was for 1st and 2nd then both would get through to the final and would be nowhere near as stressed. Not even close.

"COME ON GB!"

"Harry you do realise waving your flag so frantically that it wraps around itself on the pole and therefore becomes completely useless isn't going to make them go faster?"

Oops, hadn't even noticed that. Rather embarrassing. Why is Nikki is always right?

Actually, no, scrap that, Nikki isn't always right. Has made the wrong decision completely on the subject of who to support today.

"It might do, you never know! They might look across and see how enthusiastic their supporters are and be overcome with a sudden superhuman burst of energy! COME ON GB!"

She's laughing at me now, not even bothering to try to hide it. How rude. "You just keep telling yourself that!" Ohhh, and resting head on shoulder, hair tickles. "I love you."

"I love you too Nikki, but hold on a minute, just until this race is over? COME ON GB!"

Owwww, that was close. Can't even tell from here, going to have to wait until video replay of the finish comes up on big screen. Thank goodness Sara and Pieter had the sense to book tickets right in from of it, dread to even think how tense would be feeling right now if wasn't guaranteed video playback to confirm winners in matter of seconds.

"YES! WELL DONE GB!" Thank god for that, beat the Chinese boat by a matter of centimetres, which means British pair are definitely through to the final. Have never felt so relieved in life, is so much more stressful watching it at the venue than on television at home. Being surrounded by South African supporters with huge great flags and war paint probably doesn't help.

"Right, sorry about that. Where were we my love?"

"I love you." Ohhh that's right, remember now.

"I love you too, so much. Thank you so much for organising this."

"Don't thank me; you're the one paying for our tickets!"

"I know, but it was your idea. You look so beautiful today, you know."

Is giggling now, not quite sure what she's finding so funny. "No I don't! I look a mess and I'm running on about 2 hours sleep!"

"Well, a beautiful, tired mess then, will you accept that as a compliment? It _is_ a compliment; I'm not seizing the opportunity to insult you."

"Glad to hear it! Ohhh look, is that the women's quads getting onto to stake boats at the start?"

"Ohhh… you mean… the final? The big showdown between the South African boat and the British boat? The ones that won their heats with almost identical times?"

"Yep, that's the one."

"Oh god."

"Yep, oh god. You do realise you're completely outnumbered?"

"Nikkkkkkiiiiii! Please? I'll do anything, just wave my spare union jack for me? "

"Anything?" Ohhh, teasing look on her face now, think she might finally be on my wavelength.

"Yep, anything. Anything at all, come on Nikki please! You're a Londoner! You live in Britain, you're British! I'll protect you from the wrath of that lot over there, come on, you know you want to!"

"Tempting, very tempting. But I swore to remain neutral, and I'm remaining neutral. Sorry."

"But Nikki! It's the Olympics! We're at the Olympics, you can't not cheer for anyone!"

"I'll pick a country at random to cheer for then! Right… Canada, I'm cheering for Canada!"

"But you're not Canadian! You have no connection to Canada whatsoever!"

"Not the point! You said I have to cheer for someone, and I refuse to pick either Britain or South Africa to support because I know either you'll kill me or that lot will, so I'm keeping out of it and cheering for a country no one here has any connection to whatsoever! It's a reasonable solution!"

"If you say so." Hmm, will have one more go at convincing Josi to cross over to team GB, is not like have anything to lose.

Except race about to start, so will have to be quick.

"Josi?"

"Yes Daddy?"

"Are you sure I can't interest you in a Union Jack? You want to be waving the flag of the winners, don't you?"

"Yep, that's why I have a South African flag. We've talked about this Daddy, you support West Ham!"

Martha giving us both funny look now, either hates West Ham and supports Chelsea or some other ridiculously overrated football team or hasn't got the faintest clue what me just so happening to support West Ham has to do with the Olympic Games rowing. If it's the latter, couldn't agree with her more.

"Please Josi? I'm outnumbered here!"

"I know you are Daddy. I could always offer you a South African flag as a compromise?"

"In what way is that a compromise? I'm not budging! Josi?"

"Yep?"

"You do realise they play the national anthem of the country who wins when they go on the podium to get their medals? You'll have to sing along if South Africa win, as you've been supporting them."

"And?"

"So do you know all the words to the anthem?" Ha, think might finally have got her. Know for a fact South African national anthem involves four different languages and daughter only understands two of them. You can say what you like about 'God Save The Queen' being boring and dreary, but at least the words are nice and easy to remember.

"Of course I do! _Nkosi sikelel' iAfrika, Maluphakanyisw' uphondo lwayo, Yizwa imithandazo yethu…_"

Oh god, she does as well.

"Fine, so you know all the words. But do you know what it all means?"

Hahahahahaha judging by the look on her face have finally caught her out.

"I don't need to know what it all means, as long as I know the words!"

"Ah, but that wasn't the question! Do you know what it all means?"

"Well, no, but Ouma will tell me what it all means, so it's fine! Face it Daddy, you're on your own on this one!"

Damn. Would try and persuade Martha not to tell her but doubt would actually make any difference.

Fine then. Am going to have to cheer ridiculously loudly for Great Britain and hope and pray somehow manage to drown out army of South Africa supporters sat to left. Oh god.

Ohhh, it's starting.

"COME ON GB!"

Damn, all the other boats seem to be miles ahead already. Ohhh no, they're coming back…

**-10.01am**

Ohhhh 250 metres to go, so close between South Africa and Great Britain for gold can hardly bear to look.

"COME ON GB!"

"COME ON SOUTH AFRICA!"

How are they so loud? Will have no voice left by the end of this.

Argh, this is almost painful to watch, only a few more seconds until it's all over and still neck and neck…

"COME ON GB!"

Ohhh it's over, not a clue who won. Will have to wait for the video replay…

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

* * *

**So who won then? :P**


End file.
